


Hollow Wind and Changing Tides

by orphan_account



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Darkiplier Mark Fischbach, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, No one dies though, Please pay attention to the violence tag, Tempted to add onto this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22674637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Darkness is the first thing he’s aware of. Darkness and the horrifyingly familiar feeling of another entity inhabiting his body. The blankness of his head, the sensation of having so little control over his body, that it feels like he doesn’t even have one anymore.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach & Ethan Nestor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 87





	Hollow Wind and Changing Tides

**Author's Note:**

> So I know that this is a departure from my usual stuff, and I'm trying to get back in the swing of things, but this wouldn't leave my head. I might write some more Marvel stuff soon, but please be patient with me. 
> 
> I tried to edit this the best I could, but I don’t know if I got my thoughts across correctly. Let me know if it's complete word vomit or nonsensical rambling lmao. I didn’t mean for it to be this long but I just… couldn’t stop.
> 
> Edit: fixed some typos

Darkness is the first thing he’s aware of. Darkness and the horrifyingly familiar feeling of another entity inhabiting his body. The blankness of his head, the sensation of having so little control over his body, that it feels like he doesn’t even have one anymore.

Trying to piece together what happened is like trying to see through mud. The memories are there, but under layers of misdirection and lies. 

Mark remembers waking up that morning. _Yesterday morning? No, this morning._ He remembers getting up, and feeling tired because it had been another night full of awful nightmares. _Nightmares? Or just memories he tried to forget?_ He remembers telling Ethan what time to come over to film the idea they had discussed the previous night.

The rest of it is hazy. His mind is pushing through the weight of sleep and the thickness of a concussion. He’s trying to remember, trying to wake up, but he’s meeting resistance. 

Like someone doesn’t want him to know what his body is doing.

He uses his frustration to push through the slog of disordered memories. Ethan had come over and- _oh god, Ethan had come over._

Memories come screeching back to Mark’s head. If he had control over his body, he would have screamed or cried or both. His brain was on fire, the pain ringing through him.

He didn’t remember much of what happened when Dark started surfacing, but he could remember enough.

_Rage, triggered by a stray thought, or a poorly worded question. The look in Ethan’s eyes. Confusion, then recognition, then fear._

_A feeling like sleep paralysis as his body moved toward Ethan’s. As his hands pushed passed Ethan’s attempts to fight back. As his arms pushed his body to the floor._

Dark had let him stay aware enough to feel his fist hit Ethan’s face, to feel his hands draw blood from his friend’s skin. Ice-cold disbelief washes through him. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget the feeling of bone under his fists.

 _“Hello Mark.”_ Hearing Dark’s voice inside his own head was always a strange and hollowing sensation. A sensation that follows Mark into his dreams, wakes him up with waves of bone-chilling nausea.

“You absolute son of a bitch. Let him go. He’s not a part of this.”

 _“Well it’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?”_  
Mark is thrust into the rich darkness of the void.

A version of Dark stands in front of him, observing. Amused.

Rage rushes through what little awareness Mark has. Pure rage, unlike anything Mark can feel in full consciousness. It’s chaotic and dangerous, and it clouds his judgement. He charges at Dark. He knows it’s futile, that they’re not really in the void, but the thought of doing nothing feels like a hammer on his heart.

Dark merely moves away, his face opening into a grin that’s half amusement and half growl.

_“Relax Mark. I’ll let you back out soon. A lot sooner if you stop pushing.”_

“You can’t touch him. You can’t touch any of them. You promised-” Mark doesn’t even blink before Dark is inches from his face.

_“And you promised to let me out.”_

Mark feels like he’s free falling off a cliff as Dark allows his mind to come closer to the surface.

As soon as Dark lets him see again, he wishes he could close his eyes. He’s seen Ethan scared before. They’ve played plenty of horror games together, seen plenty of scary movies. Mark saw Ethan’s reaction when he first met Dark.

He’s never seen his best friend so completely terrified before.

“Please. Let him go.”

Mark feels his world freeze as Dark’s low chuckle filters through his own ears. Dark was letting him hear. 

At the sound of the low rumble of Dark’s laughter, Ethan flinches back and fixes his eyes on Dark’s.

“Mark says hello, Ethan,” Dark says. Ethan tries to sit up, tries to look strong, but Mark can see his face twist in pain as he moves his torso. Was it his ribs? His shoulders? His arms? He knows Ethan is trying to play tough for Mark, but the dark bruises on his face and the red stains on his clothes show otherwise. 

“Mark it’s not your fault. I know you’re blaming yourself, but it’s not your fault. I know you can-” Ethan is cut off by a gut wrenching crack as Dark hits him across the face, agitating hour-old wounds and bruises that litter his cheeks, his eyes, his mouth.

_“How touching. Such a loyal friend, trusting you and believing in you so completely and blindly. What a shame.”_

It’s the same thing, over and over again. The closer Mark gets to the people he loves, the more danger he puts them in. Overwhelming frustration and pain crawls through him. He wants to scream, to yell, to sob until his throat is raw, but all he can do is listen and watch and plead. His mind is flying through memories that are all too similar to what’s playing out in front of him.

All at once, Mark feels empty. He feels _exhausted._ Exhausted from fighting Dark, from fearing emotion.

“Oh don’t bother. He’s giving up, I can feel it,” Dark leans down to look Ethan in the eyes, grabbing his chin in his hand, “He’s not coming back for you.”

Mark stays silent, pulls back his strength. Watches as Dark walks away from Ethan and towards a nearby table.

It takes all of Mark’s willpower to pull himself away from control. He pulls all of his strength with him, pulls like he’s fighting a tsunami.

His mind goes dark, and he allows himself a moment of respite to map the room in his mind. He doesn’t have long. He has to choose fast.

_Table is too fragile, floor is too difficult, he’ll realize what’s happening. Wall behind me will do too much damage. Best option is the wall to my left._

With as much power and frustration and rage as Mark can muster, he lets everything go. He flings himself back into the fore-front, past all of Dark’s defenses. It feels like punching through concrete, like jumping into a monster’s fortress.

He feels Dark’s shock, his confused anger, and then he’s out the otherside. Before Dark can react, and before Mark processes the fact that the scream he hears is his own, he’s throwing his body head-first into the wall to his left.

* * *

_It’s a cloudy day in LA, but it’s warm._

_The world feels calm, even as Mark watches his friends shout and laugh as they attempt to get the dogs to run with them through the sand._

_A faint smile pulls at Mark’s lips as Amy tumbles and half-heartedly fights back Henry and Chica._

_His face falls as the breeze brings an echoing voice in his head. He strains to hear it, make sense of the noise, understand what it’s trying to say._

_Before he can make out its first word, a body flops down next to him on the bench. He flinches, moves to defend himself, but he’s met with Ethan’s concerned smile and calculating eyes._

_“You okay? Your friends are being outsmarted by a couple of furry idiots and you haven’t even made fun of us once.” Ethan watches him intently as Mark looks back towards the group. Tyler has joined Amy on the ground, and Kathryn is still trying to outrun an energetic Spencer._

_“He’s getting restless,” Mark says. Ethan doesn’t have to ask who he’s talking about. Ethan had only met him once, a month after he moved to LA, but he left a lasting impression._

_Ethan subconsciously scratches at the scar on his arm._

_Mark sees the movement out of the corner of his eye and inhales sharply. He shifts his attention to his lap._

_“Stop that,” Ethan scolds. Mark glances at Ethan’s arm and quickly looks back to his own hands. He pulls his knees to his chest._

_“I don’t know what’s going to happen if he,” Mark’s voice wavers and he takes a breath to steady it, “I don’t know what’s going to happen if I lose control this time. He’s gotten stronger. I was careless last time, I let you get hurt. I can’t let anyone get caught in the crossfire again.”_

_“Bullshit.”_

_Shocked, Mark’s turns to face Ethan and he opens his mouth to argue, but the steel in his friend’s eyes causes him to snap it shut._

_“You didn’t_ let _anyone get caught in shit last time. We chose to be there and_ he’s _the one we should be pointing fingers at.”_

_Mark gives Ethan a sad smile._

_“It’s not that simple Ethan. He wants you to trust me, wants all of you to trust me. If he decides to lash out while any of you are around, I’ll never forgive myself. I can’t let my guard down with anyone. Not anymore.”_

_Ethan rolls his eyes and firmly slaps Mark on the shoulder. Mark has half a second to be offended before Ethan looks him in the eyes, more serious than Mark’s ever seen him._

_“When will you get it through your head that we mean it when we say that we’ll catch you when you fall.”_

* * *

It takes Ethan a moment to make sense of the crack of bone against the wall and the abrupt silence that follows.

The high pitched ringing has disappeared, and the fog of confusion has dissipated. Dark’s gone, but Mark’s body is on the floor. Panic comes flooding into Ethan’s body.

“Mark!”

Ethan struggles against the rope binding his hands, inching his way out of the knots. His eyes stay fixed to Mark’s chest, searching for movement.

“Mark! You fucking idiot, wake up you asshole.”

Ethan finally, _finally,_ works his hands out of the rope, his wrists burning. He tries to walk towards Mark’s body, but his leg gives as he stands. He grits his teeth against the pain burning in his thigh and pulls himself closer to Mark.

He feels like he can’t breathe when he gets close enough to assess the damage.

When he rolls Mark on his back, he can see the blood covering the left side of his face. He tries to clear some of it away, tries to make his friend’s face at least semi-recognizable.

“ _Fuck._ Mark _wake up._ You have to wake up so Amy can tell you what a fucking _stupid_ idea that was cause _god knows_ you won’t listen to me.”

He tries to search for a pulse, but his hands are shaking, and he can’t remember where he’s supposed to feel and for how long, and Mark’s chest isn’t moving, and nothing about the whole damn day feels real.

“Come on Mark, _please._ You need to wake up.”

The longer the silence stretches, the longer Mark’s mouth stays still instead of telling Ethan to let go of his hand, the more Ethan’s eyes sting.

“ _Please._ ”

It feels like minutes, hours, days of holding his breath, but Mark’s hand twitches against Ethan’s and his eyes blink open before squinting shut again.

“ _Oh fuck,_ thank god, you absolute asshole.” The tension leaves Ethan’s body and he lets himself breathe as he watches Mark regain awareness.

“Are you- ow, fuck- are you okay?” Mark asks, his voice coming out raspy and broken. He tries to push himself up on his hands, but he doesn’t make it very far before he’s falling back. Ethan is quick to reach towards him and help him lean against the wall.

Ethan begins looking around the room frantically.

“Ethan, are you okay?” Mark tries again.

Ethan spots his phone a couple of feet away.

“Ethan.”

As Ethan reaches for his phone, Mark’s eyes drift to the blood staining his thigh.

“Ethan-” Ethan turns and glares daggers at Mark.

“You absolute _moron_ of course I’m not okay! I just watched my best friend try to bash his own head in!”

Mark stares in shock and sputters as Ethan collapses down next to him and buries his head in Mark’s shoulder.

“I didn’t-”

“Oh don’t try it. I know exactly what you were doing,” Ethan looks at him and waits for Mark to meet his eyes, “Don’t you _ever_ try that again. You can’t leave me here.”

Mark tugs Ethan in by his shoulder and wraps his arms around his back. Ethan tenses as first, but eventually latches onto Mark.

Ethan’s arms are still shaking and his body shifts as he sobs into Mark’s hoodie.

“I would never jump without knowing you’d catch me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I know that ending sucked, but I needed to end it at some point. I had to write this because it wouldn't leave me alone until I did. Anyway, lemme know what you thought! I'm gonna go pass the fuck out.


End file.
